Not This Time

I awake with a start and a hand clutches my heart in my chest. I am panting. A slick sheen of sweat covers me. I am afraid.

Looking up from the bed into the near darkness I see it – the source of my fear. A dark form hovers above me; a shadow, a towering presence. I cannot see its face, but can feel it looking down on me. I can feel it observing me. Waiting. I know it means to do me harm.